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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123534">Baby, You Can Drive My Car</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GryffindorGirl94/pseuds/GryffindorGirl94'>GryffindorGirl94</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, College Student Peter Parker, Infidelity, M/M, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter is a Sugar Baby, Peter is not Spider-Man, Sexual Tension, Sugar Daddy, Tony is not Iron Man, married peter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:21:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GryffindorGirl94/pseuds/GryffindorGirl94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short AU where Peter is kind of an accidental trophy wife and his husband is kind of a douchebag and Tony owns a car company but wants to own him too.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker/Original Male Character(s), Peter Parker/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Baby, You Can Drive My Car</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Slightly inspired in a mechanic!Tony Tumblr post i made a while ago. I told myself i'd quit Starker now that i'm an actual adult but i fucking couldn't so here we are</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once upon a time, Peter’s life had been… normal. They hadn’t been too comfortable, but they never went hungry either. His aunt and uncle had taken care of him as best as they could, and he’d been happy, really, as happy as a fourteen year old orphan could be, at least until the unimaginable happened and uncle Ben left them for good.</p><p>May had done her best still, taking little more than a week off at work and trying to be there for Peter even though she was the one who had taken the worst hit. He appreciated her efforts with his entire heart, but he couldn’t stand to see her working herself to the bone while also trying to go through losing the love of her life, and even though he’d been only fourteen at the time, he’d understood then that college was off the books unless he managed to score a scholarship or worked three jobs.</p><p>And get a scholarship he did, he worked his ass off for the rest of his high school years, graduated with a 4.8 GPA and got into his dream college, but here’s the catch: his MIT scholarship only covered tuition, and while he could still live with his aunt, he really didn’t want her to keep working so hard to sustain the both of them.</p><p>She looked sicker everyday, a mix from working excessively high hours and surviving off antidepressants that kept her going but didn’t actually helped her get better, and Peter couldn’t stand it anymore, so he started working two jobs to try and cover rent and food, and  it was every bit as bad as it sounded.</p><p>He looked <em>and</em> felt like a walking corpse, working on autopilot to try and pass his exams and do all his coursework while simultaneously waiting tables at a restaurant and bartending in a bar down the street after his other shift ended. Peter could almost physically see his grades slipping, but there was nothing he could do about it and that thought kept him up during the already miserable two hours of sleep he got every night.</p><p>He’d lie to May on the phone and smile for his friends on Facetime, but the dark circles under his eyes were starting to turn a permanent dark purple, and he didn’t even enjoy his assignments anymore he was so exhausted, not even the Chemistry ones. And that was saying something, since it had always been his favorite subject.</p><p>But in the end, life was life, and he wasn’t about to give up on his dreams anytime soon, so he carried on, dragging himself out of bed every morning, forcing cute smiles at work to get tips, and consuming alarming amounts of cheap coffee and energy drinks before his classes.</p><p>Peter was, if anything, as stubborn and determined as they came, but he’d often wonder how much more he could take before he died of a caffeine induced heart attack or something of the like.</p><p>And then he met Richard.</p><p>There was a fair of sorts at his college, and representatives from other important universities were visiting for God-knew-what, Peter wasn’t paying attention and he couldn’t afford the distraction. Not if he wanted to make the deadline for his Biology project he was already super behind in.</p><p>His roommate was hanging out with his girlfriend at their dorm and Peter, knowing they barely saw each other, hadn’t had the heart to ask them to leave. He also couldn’t concentrate for shit with them there so he’d settled for the little waiting room next to the library, having learned a while ago that it was most likely to be empty and quiet, while the library itself was mostly the opposite.</p><p>He was so focused on his work he didn’t even notice the other man until there was a chair-being-dragged sound next to him that startled him out of his Bio book.</p><p>“Hey,” The man said with a smile, and Peter just looked up at him for a second, confused as hell.</p><p>“Um, hi. Can I help you, sir?” He replied when he found his voice again. The stranger was a tall man dressed in a sharp navy blue suit, the expensive kind, Peter noticed. He was probably in his forties, if the strands of silver hair in his otherwise black locks were anything to go by.</p><p>“I’m here for the fair. How come you’re not downstairs mingling?” He replied, still smiling the self-assured type of smile Peter had seen in the faces of multiple powerful, important men before. He couldn’t help but notice how handsome this man was, too, well build and with a pair of deep blue eyes that matched his suit perfectly.</p><p>“I can’t really afford to do anything other than work right now. I’m already behind in most of it,” And why exactly was he venting his problems to a complete stranger, again?</p><p>“That’s too bad, may I ask why? I’m Richard, by the way. I’m here in Harvard’s name,” He offered Peter his hand, and still a little confused, he shook it.</p><p>“Peter. And, not to be impolite, sir, but why would someone like you ask me about my life?” With ‘like you’ he meant the obvious: rich and important. Probably an investor, since he didn’t look like a teacher. Could be a principal or dean, though.</p><p>“Well, I’ve been standing here for a while and I’ll admit you caught my attention. What would you say to letting me buy you a drink tonight?” Richard proposed, properly throwing Peter for a loop this time.</p><p>“You,” He managed after a beat “You wanna buy <em>me</em> a drink? Why?” It wasn’t like Peter hated his looks or considered himself ugly or whatever. He knew he was fit and pretty alright, going by the current standards, but his hair was a mess and his eyes must be swollen as hell from the lack of sleep and he currently had on a pair of sweatpants and a way too big hoodie that did nothing at all for his figure.</p><p>His new acquaintance winked at him  “What can I say, I like them young and pretty, and you caught my attention. No hard feelings if you want to decline, though.” He said simply, giving him a once over that made him blush a little.</p><p>Peter knew older, wealthy men often liked to, well, engage with younger and beautiful people; it was a tale as old as time. He just never thought he’d qualify to be one of those young, beautiful people in question.</p><p>“I would like that, sir, but I’m working until late tonight. I can’t really afford to take the day off.” He answered finally, a bit disappointed but unwilling to get fired over a date. Even if it was a very hot one.</p><p>“How much do you make in a day? I’ll pay you double.” And okay, yeah, Peter saw where this was going now. But did he really mind was the question.</p><p>“I couldn’t possibly-“</p><p>“It’s no trouble. Seriously. Hell, I’ll get you a better job if they fire you from this one,” He stated like it wasn’t a big deal, and for him it probably wasn’t. To this man, a minimum wage must look like ten cents, if that.</p><p>He lifted his gaze from his hands to be pinned in place by those assertive eyes, and wondered if it could really be that bad to go out with this man tonight and take his money, even if that meant ending up in his bed afterwards. He was exhausted, and quite frankly a bit desperate, and just wanted a <em>break</em> for once.</p><p>“Okay, then, I guess. If it’s really no trouble?” He accepted, a bit shy and a lot uncertain. The brilliant smile he got in return made him a little warm all over, though.</p><p>“None at all,” Richard’s phone rang and he fished it out of the front pocket of his slacks, getting up “I need to take this, but I’ll pick you up and nine, okay Peter?” He raised his eyebrows in Peter’s direction, phone already pressed into his ear.</p><p>“Yeah,” He gave the older man a tentative smile, “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>{}</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>One date became two, and two became three, and three became Peter quitting both his jobs and living off the monthly allowance Richard gave him, which wasn’t small by any means.</p><p>He now spent pretty much all his time at the man’s mansion in Melrose, since it was only a twenty minute drive from his college. At first, Peter had felt like an intruder and refused to spend more than a day there, but Richard had insisted, arguing that he was more likely to be at work rather than at the mansion for the most part, often getting home late and starting early the next day, sometimes even going away for weeks at a time on business trips.</p><p><em>Besides</em>, he’d told him with a suggestive smile<em>, this way I can keep you in lingerie all day with no one but the maid to see you</em>. Peter had blushed so intensely he was pretty sure he’d looked like a human-shaped tomato, but that apparently did it for Richard, cause he’d fucked him right there on the kitchen table, standing between the boy’s trembling legs and making every single object on top of it rattle dangerously. It was a good memory.</p><p>So yeah, Peter was a sugar baby now, apparently.</p><p>He wasn’t <em>in love</em> with Richard, per see, but the man treated him good, payed for his every need and spoiled him rotten, so it was fine, really. It was the next best thing. The sex wasn’t mind blowing or anything, but it was okay. Richard didn’t always take a lot of time to prepare him, but Peter had gotten pretty used to it by then, even enjoying the residual soreness sometimes.</p><p>“Baby, I’m home!” He heard from the front door. Peter was currently laying on his stomach on the living room carpet, his books spread all around him, pencil in hand and calculator at the ready.</p><p>He put down the pencil and stood up, feeling a bit of a cramp in his muscles after being in the same position for so long. He made his way to Richard and threw his arms around his neck to kiss him in greeting.</p><p>“How was your day, daddy?”</p><p>“It was good, baby. Better now that I’m with you,” His hands traced the hem of Peter’s booty shorts, making him shiver. So he was in <em>that</em> kinda mood tonight.</p><p>Peter <em>really</em> needed to finish summarizing that chapter, but he could get up extra early tomorrow to do it. It was no big deal, honestly.</p><p>Richard started to kiss and bite at his neck, then, dragging him towards the couch, making him sit on his lap with a little more force than necessary.</p><p>Peter gave his abandoned textbooks one last, longing look, and kissed the man back.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>{}</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Four months later, there was a party.</p><p>Richard told him a few of his business associates would be coming to the mansion to celebrate a big win for the company. It wasn´t uncommon, but the parties were often held at hotels or at party venues, never at the partner’s homes. He wondered what was different this time.</p><p>It was also a Wednesday night, and Peter had class at nine am the next day.</p><p>“Daddy?” He called, a little hesitant.</p><p>“What is it, baby?” Richard was sitting on his desk, typing away in his computer. He made a distracted hand gesture in Peter’s general direction.</p><p>“Could you, hm,” He paused to take a deep breath “Could I maybe get an early night sleep tonight? I have class early tomorrow, and it’s a difficult subject.” He didn’t bother with specifics, having learned by now that daddy didn’t care for them.</p><p>“Petey, I told you already: tonight’s important. More important that some class you’ll be missing, I’m sure. You never skip, so one day can’t hurt, right?” It sounded more like a statement than a question, and Peter thought <em>what could you know, anyways?  </em>but looked at the ground, resigned.</p><p>“I guess not, daddy. Sorry I asked.”</p><p>“That’s okay, baby boy. Now come give daddy a kiss,” He lifted his chin, gaze still fixated on the computer screen.</p><p>And Peter went, forcing a smile as he gave the man a sweet kiss.</p><p>“Make sure wear your prettiest outfit tonight, baby. You’ll thank me later.”</p><p>“Yes, daddy.”</p><p>And with that, he was out of the study, making his way upstairs towards his bedroom. He was tired from today’s lessons and he just wanted to lay down and watch some Netflix on the couch in his pajamas.</p><p>He opened his walk-in closet and rummaged through the racks, pulling out the glittery golden see-through Prada blouse Richard had bought him as one of his many birthday gifts that year, along with some high rise Prada black velvet shorts. Richard has said they made his ass look like a five star meal, but tonight he felt naked and uncomfortable in them. He didn’t always feel like wearing feminine clothes, but his daddy loved to see him in them, always insisting he wear them instead of his preferred nerdy t-shirts and baggy sweatpants.</p><p>He was okay with it most of the time, but tonight he was tired and really not in the mood to stand in a room full of rich, power drunk assholes who often looked at him like he was a juicy piece of meat, but Richard said it was important, so it was.</p><p>When he made his way back downstairs, the living room was already filled with Richard’s friends and coworkers, all chatting amongst each other and with drinks in their hands already. He lingered by the foot of the stairs, unsure, but his daddy spotted him and waved him over.</p><p>“Baby! Come here, I wanna introduce you to some friends,” He said, motioning around his group of sharply suited up white men that could all be named Dick as far as he was concerned. Peter forced yet another smile, making his way over as slowly as possible.</p><p>He wanted to go back upstairs and crawl into bed already.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>{}</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A couple of hours and way more cranberry vodkas (for Peter) and glasses of scotch (for Richard) later, a slightly drunk Richard cut off the music and called everyone’s attention from the foot of the stairs.</p><p>Peter stared, more than a little confused, as his daddy dug into his suit jacket’s pocket and pulled out a small square box covered in red velvet.</p><p>He did a double take and felt like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest when the man walked up to him and got down in one knee. What was happening?</p><p>“Peter, baby, I know we’ve only known each other for a few months, but we make too much sense together, and I never want to let you go, so,” The crowd around them made a collective <em>aww </em>sound, and Peter’s ears were ringing with the loud sound of his heart, beating faster and faster. “Will you marry me?”</p><p><em>Marry </em>Richard? But he was so young…</p><p><em>Think of all the doors this will open for you</em> his logical, traitor brain told him. <em>You could do anything, be anyone</em>. <em>You would never have to worry about money again, and who cares if it’s not true love? You know that’s bullshit anyways.</em></p><p>He closed his mouth and tried to focus on Richard’s permanent king-of-the-world expression. It was almost as if he already knew Peter would accept.</p><p><em>God, don’t let me regret this</em>.</p><p>“Yes.” Cheers boomed all around them, and Richard put the diamond ring on his finger, picking him up and kissing him intently.</p><p>He was too stunned to reciprocate.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>{}</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They got married that summer, a huge, fancy event, with the white lilies and the fairytale wedding venue and the 3 feet tall cake. Peter said yes dressed head to toe in a custom Tom Ford three piece, his a pure white while Richard’s was navy blue, like the one he was wearing the day they met. It was his favorite color, Peter had learned later on.</p><p>Now, a year into his marriage, he couldn’t really complain.</p><p>Richard was gone most of his time, his company was investing in hotels all around the world this year, and he had to handle the negotiations, he said. He didn’t trust anyone else with them. It was fine, it allowed Peter to study in peace, and he honestly needed all the hours of reading he could get. This year had been the most difficult one so far.</p><p>So here he was, alone in their huge, white marble, impersonal kitchen, dragging a tired hand over his eyes as he made himself a cup of hot chocolate. He’d been studying for finals week all day, but he couldn’t really afford to take a break now. Just a couple more exams and he’d be free, at least until after the summer holidays. He was looking forwards to pool days with Ned and MJ, who’d already promised to come over and stay for a few days, preferably during one of his husband’s weeks abroad.</p><p>His phone rung from the living room, and he ran to pick it up, seeing Richard’s contact name flash up on the screen.</p><p>“Hey sweetheart.”</p><p>“Baby, how are you?” His husband greeted him, but kept talking before Peter could open his mouth “Anyways, I was just calling to let you know that we need another day to close this deal, so I won´t be home until Wednesday night. I’d already set up a date to meet up with Tony Stark tomorrow, and he’s a very busy man so I can’t really reschedule. I reckon you already know who that is. Can you deal with it?” Wait, <em>who</em> was coming to their home tomorrow?</p><p>“Yeah, sure,” He agreed, stunned. “Do I just let him in and show him to the garage?”</p><p>“Sure, baby, you do that. He’s doing us a special favor coming to check on the car in person, so be polite,” He emphasized “Remember, he’ll be there at four tomorrow. I gotta go now. Love you.”</p><p>“Love you too,” He managed to reply before the call disconnected.</p><p>So. Tomorrow. Four pm. The car technician. Who also happened to be Tony Stark, like the Stark cars owner and CEO, the ones that cost thousands of dollars and most people would kill to get their hands hands on.</p><p>Alright then.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>{}</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Peter forgot. Of <em>course</em> he forgot.</p><p>In his defense, he had gotten like two hours of sleep tops, and that’d been at around twelve pm, and when the doorbell rang he barely had time to splash cold water over his face, brush his teeth and make his way to the front door. Never mind that he was still wearing his pink pajama shorts and a Back to the Future t-shirt so short it was practically a crop top.</p><p>He opened the front door, apology ready on his tongue and-</p><p>Tony Stark was <em>not</em> what he’d been expecting. Not at all.</p><p>First of all, he wasn’t even dressed like a millionaire, and Peter had met a few, and he was pretty sure designer blazer over an AC/DC tee and jeans was nowhere near the standard attire.</p><p>“Good morning, Mr. Goldman. I assume you were expecting me?” He greeted casually, tipping down his red tinted sunglasses. Peter saw his brown eyes giving his clothes a once over, but his expression remained cool and leveled.</p><p>“Yeah, yes, hi, my husband couldn’t make it home in time. I’m Peter, Richard’s my husband. And I already said that,” Damn, he was embarrassed. Sleep deprived Peter always meant brain-dead Peter.</p><p>“Alright then, Peter. I’m Tony Stark, and I’ll be your car doctor today,” He winked at him, his voice smooth and laid back in a way he hadn’t seen in a while, especially not in anyone this wealthy and <em>famous</em>.</p><p>Peter looked up at the older man stupidly until his brain decided to come back online and he moved aside, hastily inviting him in. He decided not to go with ‘<em>are you kidding me? Of course I know who you are</em>’ and preserve what was left of his dignity instead.</p><p>“So, where do you keep your babies?” Tony asked him as he made his way inside, looking around indifferently.</p><p>“That´d be the garage. It’s downstairs, I’ll show you,” He turned around, but then he remembered he was supposed to play host, and he was already doing a poor job of it.</p><p>“Sorry, did you want something to drink first?” Peter asked his guest, and the man gave him a strange smile.</p><p>“Sure, thank you.” He followed Peter to the poolside bar. “I would normally ask for whiskey on the rocks, but I’m supposed to be working today, so” He sighed, sounding deeply hurt, and Peter couldn’t contain his giggle.</p><p>“Water, then? Or I could make you a smoothie, it’ll only take a second.”</p><p>“That would be lovely,” He smiled at him again and damn, that smile could’ve been on the poster of any romantic Hollywood drama. “Thanks, doll.”</p><p>Peter blushed at the nickname, hoping the other man would think it was because of the heat. He quickly pulled out a bunch of different fruits and decided to make his favorite one, since Tony hadn’t asked for anything specific.</p><p>“Peaches and cherries? Now that’s a new one,” He said once he’d tried it, that award winning smile somehow still on his face.</p><p>“It’s always been my favorite. Hope you like it,” He played with the string of his shorts to avoid looking at the man’s face. He didn’t want to blush again and give Tony (or himself) the wrong idea.</p><p>“Oh, I definitely do,” Peter felt like he wasn’t talking about the smoothie anymore.</p><p>He jumped from the barstool and started to walk towards the garage, maybe a little faster than necessary, but he could hear the other man’s steps right behind him, though, so it was okay. Once they got there, Peter led him to the Stark car and left quickly after telling him to shout when he was done so the maid would show him out.</p><p>The man thanked him and looked like he wanted to say something else, but Peter never gave him the chance. He still felt a little warm, and the perfectly programmed air conditioning of the house almost seemed to mock him. It <em>was</em> because of the heat, of course.</p><p>Nothing to it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>{}</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He came to the next party.</p><p>They were at the Ritz, a week later, Richard and his colleagues celebrating God knew what new deal they’d gotten, Peter all dressed up and pretty and hanging off his husband’s arm, nothing new.</p><p>And then he saw him.</p><p>The man was dressed accordingly now, in a perfectly tailored black suit, but those colored glasses were unmistakable. Peter quickly turned his stunned gaze away, but Tony had already spotted him and was walking towards them.</p><p>“Mr. Goldman,” He greeted, professional and detached, “We never got the chance to meet properly,” He was talking to his husband, but his eyes strayed to Peter. The boy felt like a deer being watched by a lion, and he found that he didn´t mind it. More than that, he wanted <em>more</em>.</p><p>He gripped Richard’s arm tighter, wishing those thoughts would leave him alone. They didn’t mean anything good and he knew it.</p><p>“Mr. Stark!” His husband exclaimed, shaking the man’s hand happily, “My apologies, I’m afraid I was all the way across the ocean last week. I trust my Peter was a good host?” Sure, if you could call abandoning him and pleading with the maid to show him out while he hid upstairs instead being a good host.</p><p>Definitely not his finest moment.</p><p>“Oh, absolutely. Don’t worry, he was perfect,” His tone said professional flattery, but his eyes spoke for themselves. Peter shivered a bit at the way the man had said <em>perfect</em> and prayed that Richard didn´t notice.</p><p>“I´m very glad to hear that,” He replied in the same plastic flattery tone, then turned to Peter “Why don’t you leave us for a while, honey? Go get yourself a drink or something.”</p><p>Peter nodded, grateful for the way out, never mind that Richard had no idea what was going through his head (thank God) and just wanted to engage in “men” talk that he was convinced Peter wouldn’t enjoy.</p><p>“Sure, sweetie. Good to see you again, Mr. Stark,” He said to the man, repressing another shiver at the intense gaze he got for his troubles.</p><p>“Likewise, Peter.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>{}</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Peter was nursing his third glass of champagne when his husband came back, noticeably more drunk and still chatting animatedly with Mr. Stark.</p><p>“I personally think the new model is excellent, but I don’t see how voice operated stereos are revolutionary,” Richard was saying, and then he spotted Peter, sitting alone on a sleek rectangular shaped couch near the bar. He then said something to Mr. Stark, and the other man walked away towards the bar.</p><p>“Baby, there you are! I was looking for you,” Richard kissed him as soon as he got close enough, tugging on his hand for him to get up, “Let’s go dance for a bit.”</p><p>Peter got up, feeling his husband’s arm wrap around his waist as soon as he did. Booze always got Richard all hot and bothered, and it seemed like tonight was no exception. He made eye contact with Mr. Stark when he spotted him waiting for his drink at the bar while his husband guided him towards the dance floor, and the man’s eyes were dark, fixated on him in a way that made him blush. He hoped people would think it was the champagne’s fault.</p><p>‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ came on, most definitely a request from someone, and Richard pulled him in and swayed, whispering the lyrics into his ear, hands getting dangerously low on the small of is back.</p><p>And Tony had never stopped watching them. He was moving to the beat distractedly, muttering the lyrics and gripping his scotch glass so tight Peter could see his fingers turning white. He remembered the t-shirt the man was wearing the day they met, and concluded that he looked way too glum for an AC/DC fan right now.</p><p>Richard gave him a soft slap on the ass when he unconsciously stopped moving, and he jumped a bit, still unable to tear his eyes away from Tony.</p><p>“Let´s go home, baby. I really want to fuck you right now,” His husband whispered in his ear, biting at the lobe a second later. The combination of the alcohol in his bloodstream and his husband’s hot mouth on him made him moan a bit before he could string two thoughts together and stop himself.</p><p>If he didn’t know it was impossible due to the music, he could’ve sworn Tony heard him. The hard stare he gave Peter burned him from the inside out, and he couldn’t understand how this man he’d only met twice in his life could make him feel this way, but he liked it. He liked it so much, and he was in trouble already for even thinking that, and Richard was biting his neck, dragging him to the car, and Tony held his gaze until the gates slid shut and he couldn’t see his handsome face anymore.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>{}</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>That night, as his husband fucked him into their mattress, Peter’s mind was stuck in an endless loop of dark brown eyes and rough hands, and he wasn’t even surprised when it only took him a few minutes to come.</p><p>The orgasm left him seeing white spots behind his eyelids, and Richard chuckled, speeding up his thrusts and finishing inside of him with a groan he muffled into Peter’s neck.</p><p>“Damn, baby, that was awesome,” He breathed, getting up to go clean himself up.</p><p>“Yeah,” Peter agreed in a whisper, though his husband was no longer there to hear him. He closed his eyes, instantly seeing red tinted glasses and a dashing smile, clear as day. “Yeah, it was.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Remember to do your daily good deed and leave a comment :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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